Be My Escape
by FruitSmiles
Summary: He's everywhere, and he's slowly breaking me. I want to whisk away from this place. Far away. And let myself escape in to the wind. -Discontinued until more reviews (15)
1. Prologue

**Not sure where I wanna go with this yet, give me ideas? A two-shot? Or a mini-story? :) Thanks.**

Fruitsmiles

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><p>Be My Escape<p>

(Prologue)

Days like today I spend my time listening to the fan above me whisk the air in to pieces. I hate days where I sit in my room, recalling old memories. Recalling; remembering, whatever you want to call it: it's not for me. Some days I think about what really goes on in my life, while other days I just pretend my life doesn't exist and I go about my day as if I had control of it. No one's figured it out yet; that's what I tell myself. Truth is I believe everyone knows; they just don't want to tell me.

When will be the time for the world to become honest with me? I hate being looked in the eye and lied to. I can't stand it. I get sick of listening to others. Brutally honest here, okay? I'd like it to be about me. For once in my life I want this to be about me. The world would disagree. It's all about everyone else. Scratch that: It's all about _him_.

"Mitchie, let's go." My mother called me through the door. She knew better than to walk in. "Whatever." I closed my laptop and slowly got ready. First day of College; Community College. My family would rather spend money on themselves than be decent enough to let me go to College away from home. But no, I'm stuck paying for College off my work money, still living with my parents.

"Try and act enthusiastic." My mother stated as she handed me the car keys. I gave her a fake smile and exited the house.

I pulled in to the closest parking place possible. I wanted to get in and get out. Going to College this year was pointless. All the classes are general eds. But I had to until I found an alternative way to get into Julliard.

Julliard: the school, **my** school. My parents refused to let the high school or I send in an application for Julliard; they believed I didn't have the talent to get in anyway. Little do they know the second I find a way, I'm out of here.

"Michelle Torres?" My professor addressed me, "Mitchie." I corrected him. He nodded and handed me several papers. "Here's your seating chart for the year. Your book is on your desk. Welcome." I was polite enough to let him finish his sentence before stalking off towards my seat. The class dragged on for two hours. And I thought high school was boring- Community College definitely had it beat. Especially this English class, I mean it's even the highest credited here and I know everything that's going on. I mean, shouldn't the AP's be **more difficult** or _**something**_?

"Honey, how was your day?" Caitlyn, my co-worker asked as I clocked in. "Terrible. I'm so ready to get out." Cait laughed. "You've been saying that for years." "I don't care. I'm determined, Cait. I'm tired of letting my dreams fall through the cracks." I spoke to her with a rough tone, heading towards the bar to deliver some drinks sitting out. "Mitchie," Her voice was soft, always when she was apologetic. I turned in her direction with a glare, continuing my work.

"Girls, take your breaks." The manager called from the back. I threw the napkins in the trash forcefully and cut through the bar to the back in avoidance of Cait. "Mitchie, I'm sorry alright? I understand after your Dad left that your Mom didn't support you or Camp R-" I spun at her, pain masking my face. "Look here, Caitlyn; I'm done. I'm tired of you trying to fix things and I'm tired of talking about that stupid Camp that happened years ago. It's irrelevant. What **is** relevant is Julliard, okay? I want to write. I want to write and sing. So stop bringing up the past and go along with your life without getting involved in mine!" I left the break room and returned to the bar infuriated. Caitlyn knew better than to bring up my parents and she certainly didn't think twice about mentioning that stupid Camp. How dare she.

I flopped onto my bed like a fish coming on to shore. I was utterly exhausted from work and had spent the night feeling completely betrayed by Caitlyn. I'm a grudge holder. I was going to be holding this one on her for a while. She knows she is the only person I remotely enjoy talking to. I turned on my laptop and connected to my email. The news feed on the Yahoo! page was annoying. I clicked on to my mail forcefully, ignoring the description below the photo.

_RE: Julliard Admissions_

_ Michelle Torres, I am sorry to inform you that next spring and fall's music, writing majors and classes are full. Next admissions will be open in two more summers. We would enjoy having you as a student here, if you are still interested please send your resume to the admissions office and we'll review it. Please feel free to call the board or office, our numbers are listed below. Thank you. _

_ -Julliard Music Board _

I clicked out of the email in tears. Two more years? This couldn't be right, it just couldn't! I logged on to the Julliard website to find I had been wrong. Julliard's waiting list was so broad and lengthy that they admitted 12,000 music and writing students for the next two years. If I had any chance of getting it, at the age of 23 they wouldn't admit me. They loved young, raw talent, fresh out of high school.

I've let myself go in my writing and in my songs. I hated spending my days looking in to the nothingness of my wall. The fan whisking the air in to millions of pieces. If only I could be whisked away from this place. My life simply an imagination. If the world truly knows me, why don't they speak up? Because my voice is just not loud enough.

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><p><strong>Like I said; don't know where this is gonna go, review and tell me what you wanna see happen. Two-shot? Three? Mini-story? Full story?<strong>

~Fruitsmiles

p.s. Thanks for everyone who's stuck through all the waiting. I love that ya'll are patient with me and the stories.


	2. Big Break

**Mini-story? Full story? Or just a few chapters? PLEASE review if you read this! I wanna know what YOU want to see happen!  
><strong>

Fruitsmiles

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><p>Be My Escape<p>

(Chapter One- Big Break)

"I thank you for everything you've done this summer. I promise to call you. I owe my new found freedom to you, after all." _His _words pierced my heart in a way that I never experienced before. I waited for three months and as the fourth month rolled around I deleted every memory of _him_ from that gracious summer. I deleted _him_ from my flash drive, computer, and my heart.

I jumped up as my alarm blew in to a serenade. I quickly picked up the phone. "Hello?" If and when I had dreams of the past, of that stupid Camp, I wouldn't think twice. Not even this time. "May I talk to Michelle Torres?" A professional, rough voice spoke methodically. Startled, I reviewed the number: private. "Um, this is she speaking." I spoke in a soft tone. No one besides Cait and my Mother called me. "Nice speaking to you. My name is Rudy Gray from Julliard admissions; I reviewed your admissions and I saw your talents in writing and music. I see you excelled in both very well at Romney High, correct?" Julliard Admissions? My heart began beating like a bomb against my chest; I wanted to scream and jump up and down on my bed but I composed myself. "Yes, writing, music and singing were the only things that kept me in high school. More so, my passion for Julliard kept me determined." I heard a couple of sounds from the line, possible writing?

Rudy and I spoke on the phone for an hour about my attendance in Julliard. It began coming to an end. "Now that I know you a little better, Mitchie, I just have one question. Why did you not submit any recommendation or audition video? I'm sure your teachers were well aware of your talents." I wanted to sigh, how could I explain that my Mother hadn't wanted me to go? Could that decrease my chances? "In all honesty, Rudy, I was forbidden to apply to Julliard because of my parent's recent divorce. The money was out of the question and my Mother, although she refuses to admit it, isn't stable enough to let me go." I heard a couple more noises like earlier and waited patiently. My heart began racing again. "Well Mitchie, I am sorry for the inconvenience of your parent's separation, but given the chance I invite you for a stay, would you accept it? I'd like to meet you in person and see what I can do for you. Julliard would be lucky to have someone with talent like yours." My heart exploded in my chest and tears of joy shimmered down my cheeks, "I would love the chance, Rudy." "Good. It's settled. I'll email you the ticket and cross over money to get you a hotel here in New York City. A chauffer will be waiting for you at the airport when you arrive. Thanks again, Miss. Torres."

I didn't tell my Mother of Rudy's call. I got up out of bed, took a shower, and went to the College and filled out a withdraw form. And by the time I left the College, I was no longer a Community College student. I was Julliard bound. Even though I was still upset with Caitlyn, I did go in to work to my shift and tell her of the news. "Julliard? Are you serious?" Caitlyn was just as excited for me, if not more. I smiled buoyantly, "Yes, THE Julliard. A man named Rudy Gr—" I paused. Throughout Rudy and I's hour conversation I didn't bother to see through my excitement to realize what a deal I had made.

I just made a deal with the devil himself.

I took a seat on the bar, I began feeling nauseous. "Mitch? What's wrong?" My breathing increased and I began to lean my head down. Caitlyn had witnessed my panic attacks one too many times; she promptly got some ice and cool water. She placed a bag of ice on my forehead, wiping my face calmly and soothingly. I took a few sips of water. "Thank you." Caitlyn nodded. She was good at getting my body calmed down before I passed out or blacked out. "So, why the panic?" She questioned. I only had panic attacks when it came to _him._

"The admissions guy's name is Rudy Gray." Caitlyn's jaw dropped. I began to lightly cry. Cait embraced me and did her best to calm my emotions. It was no use. "Are you still going?" I nodded, "Cait, I have to! This is Julliard!" Cait smiled, "Good. Don't let that jerk stop you." I smiled, "Thank you, Cait. I'll call you every night. And when I get there." Cait hugged me, "Don't have too much fun without me, okay?" I smiled, "Don't worry. I won't."

I came home to an email from Rudy: _Michelle (Mitchie) Torres: Enclosed is your airline ticket and a check for twenty-five thousand dollars. I want you to enjoy your stay here in New York so upon your arrival tomorrow evening, you will be taken to Times Square to visit any Musical of your choosing, and a shopping departure- expenses free. You may purchase whatever you like; however at eight p.m. sharp, I will be expecting you in Julliard's main lobby where I will greet you with the Music, Writing and Drama instructors at my side. I am looking forward to your arrival. See you tomorrow. –Rudy_

So this time I didn't hesitate in jumping up and down on my bed.

The next morning I transferred Rudy's check on to my debit card and after I packed a suitcase of clothes, I set out for the weekend in New York. Call me bitchy, but I left my Mother a note._ Mom, I know things in your life haven't been on the right path lately but the real concern is I. For years I have looked after you and haven't been able to focus on me. Despite your liking, I have a dream. I want nothing more than to write, sing, and act. You haven't accepted it in years, but I have a talent, Mother. You haven't accepted it, but others have. I'm not telling you where I am going, I'm sure you may guess; but whether or not you invite me back in to your home, is your decision, but **my** decision is to live my dream. You had your chance to fix things. It's my turn to **make**__myself, make my dreams come true. I love you Mom. –Mitch xoxo_

New York was more beautiful and magnificent than I'd dreamed it would be. Nothing is ever the same in reality. I didn't hesitate in going to Times Square. I watched Wicked on Broadway and shopped until I couldn't any more. I was worn out by six. Two hours until Julliard. I decided all of the walking and traveling had I starved. I ate at a small coffee shop just a few blocks from Julliard. I decided I would give the limo driver a break and told him I could walk to Julliard. He agreed and said he'd have my items delivered to my hotel and on the napkins he had scrawled out the directions. I pulled out my phone and called Cait; I had so much to tell her already.

Julliard was more beautiful than Times Square in my eyes. I arrived at 7:50. I couldn't contain myself; had it been my choice, I would've arrived when I flew in. I took a seat in the main lobby and waited. At eight sharp, a tall man with dark hair walked in front of me and he then turned to face me. "Michelle Torres, let me formally introduce myself. My name is Rudy Gray." I masked a smile as he told me his name. That name. "Hello Rudy. I'm Mitchie." He nodded professionally. "Ah, here are the instructors." I turned to see three professionally dressed, older, persons walking our way. Each of them introduced themselves.

I got a small tour of the school by Rudy and the instructors. Each explained their programs and classes to me. Then they explained each of the majors. If I decided to take theater, I would take a drama and a writing class, if I chose music; I would take all three classes. If I was to take writing, I would also take those three portions as well as an extra literature and poetry class. I was interested in the music and writing majors. They directed me towards the auditorium where we entered from the backstage. "Stand at the microphone, will you please?" The music director, Mr. B (Barnes) asked. I nodded and made my way across the stage to the microphone. Rudy took a seat in the front row, looking up at me with a smile. I smiled back at him and turned my head at a scratching sound on the stage. The three professors were pushing the piano across the stage towards me. I gulped. I knew what this meant. I was going to audition. No preparation. Improvisation.

"We'd like you to sing a piece of your music for us first and then we'll have you do a script reading." I nodded, "Okay." My voice rang through the microphone and it filled the entire theater. I moved to the piano, unlatching the microphone, I put it in the stand connected to the piano. I didn't state the songs name, nor did I play a few notes before; I knew how these auditions were. They were professional and REAL. I waited until each of the professors took a seat next to Rudy, and then I began to play.

The notes bellowed from my fingertips like rain and lightning. I played the intro methodically, and well; playing a few extra notes before I began to sing, I wanted them to see my ravenous notes as well as my voice.

_Twelve years old, with my back to the door_

_All I could hear was the family war_

_Your selfish hands, always expecting more_

_Am I your child? Or just a charity award?_

_You have a hallowed out heart but it's heavy in your chest_

_I try so hard to fight it but it's hopeless_

_Hopeless, you're hopeless_

_Oh father, please father, I'd love to leave you alone, but I can't let you go._

_Oh father, please father, put the bottle down for the love of a daughter._

_It's been five years, since we've spoken last._

_And you can't take back, what we never had_

_Oh, I can be manipulated only so many times_

_Before even I love you, starts to sound like a lie_

_You have a hallowed out heart but it's heavy in your chest_

_I try so hard to fight it but it's hopeless_

_Hopeless, you're hopeless_

_Oh father, please father, I'd love to leave you alone, but I can't let you go._

_Oh father, please father, put the bottle down for the love of a daughter._

_Don't you remember I'm your baby girl?_

_How could you push me out of your world?_

_Lied to your flesh and your blood, put your hands on the ones that you swore you loved_

_Don't you remember I'm your baby girl?_

_How could you throw me right out of your world?_

_So young when the pain, now forever afraid of being alone_

_Oh father, please father, I'd love to leave you alone, but I can't let you go._

_Oh father, please father, put the bottle down for the love of a daughter._

I let my voice ring and I hit the highest note I could, ranging it back down; I let the keys play in a sequence as I hit the note and I slowly pulled back as I came to an end.

_For the love a daughter, for the love of a daughter_

As I finished I kept myself composed and walked to the front of the stage, the microphone in my hand. "Okay, here is the script reading. It's highlighted." Mrs. C (Cars), the theater professor handed me the page, "Thank you." I knew they weren't going to critique me until I finished. It was blistering to wait.

I began the read, I didn't need to read it or skim to know what I was doing. I had done this all my life; reading and reading and acting._ "So, the day after I turned 18, I kissed the folks goodbye, got on a Trailways bus - and headed for the big bad apple. Cause I wanted to be a Rockette. Oh, yeah, let's get one thing straight. See, I never heard about "The Red Shoes," I never saw "The Red Shoes," I didn't give a fuck about "The Red Shoes."_

_ I decided to be a Rockette because this girl in my home town - Louella Heiner - had actually gotten out and made it in New York. And she was a Rockette. Well, she came home one Christmas to visit, and they gave her a parade. A goddamn parade! I twirled a friggin' baton for two hours in the rain. Unfortunately though, she got knocked up over Christmas. Merry Christmas - and never made it back to Radio City. That was my plan. New York, New York. Except I had one minor problem. See, I was ugly as sin. I was ugly, skinny, homely, unattractive and flat as a pancake. _

_Get the picture? Anyway, I got off this bus in my little white shoes, my little white tights, little white dress, my little ugly face, and my long blonde hair - which was natural then. I looked like a fucking nurse! I had 87 dollars in my pocket and seven years of tap and acrobatics. I could do a hundred and eighty degree split and come up tapping the Morse Code. Well, with that kind of talent I figured the Mayor would be waiting for me at Port Authority. Wrong! I had to wait 6 months for an audition. Well, finally the big day came. I showed up at the Music Hall with my red patent leather tap shoes. And I did my little tap routine. And this man said to me: Can you do fankicks? - Well, sure I could do terrific fankicks. But they weren't good enough. Of course, what he was trying to tell me was...it was the way I looked, not the fankicks. So I said: Fuck you, Radio City and the Rockettes! I'm gonna make on Broadway! Well, Broadway, same story. Every audition. I mean I'd dance rings around the other girls and find myself in the alley with the other rejects. But after a while I caught on. I mean I had eyes. I saw what they were hiring. I also swiped my dance card once after an audition. And on a scale of 10...they gave me for dance 10. For looks: 3."_

Plain and simple; they had given me the role of Val, the big badass, probably to test their judgment of me. Well I saw the expressions on their faces when I finished. I knew that the way I flipped my hair, how cockily I portrayed her and the way my voice flowed so well with my actions; they were impressed. But just as I was good at portraying a badass: they sure as hell could portray 'not interested'. That was fine. I could play 'I don't care what you think'. "I went ahead and showed Mr. Cross that poem you filed over to me yesterday for your writing portion. If you could come down, we'll go to the meeting hall and discuss your audition." Rudy beckoned me and I obeyed. I felt quite confident about my audition.

I failed to recognize the shadow standing back stage as I followed the instructors out of the theater.

"I enjoy the quality of your music. You know the piano very well. I am concerned with the execution of the song. It was a good choice, very good choice. My concern is that if you were to become a piece of the talent here, would you be able to mask your emotions enough to write a ballad for a character, and portray that? It's much easier to execute your own emotions than it is to execute a fictional character." Mr. B questioned my talents. I spoke up "I can assure you that despite my emotions, I am able to execute those of another person, fictious or real, and from there I am able to write a ballad of any choosing." Mr. B nodded, "Cinderella. Go." He handed me a piece of paper and I began scrawling the notes on to the page; I scrawled lyrics at the bottom.

_A change of time, a break in the clock_

_However long I have, waste it, I shall not_

_Freedom rings in me on a fine morn such so_

_I will yearn for my prince, as for food does a crow._

_Dreaming and living and basking and tripping_

_Oh what the day may bring_

_I will open my eyes and remember the way that he kisses me _

_Oh how the night does soar_

_A change of time, a break in the clock_

_However long I have, waste it, I shall not_

_Freedom rings in me on a fine morn such so_

_I will yearn for my prince, as for food does a crow._

_Oh, let me be free. Let me be free._

I handed Mr. B the piece of paper. It took ten minutes. Mr. B smiled in satisfaction before placing the paper in his briefcase. "I am quite endeared by your work Miss. Torres." Mrs. C nodded in unison, along with Mr. K (Kings), the writing professor. "I have yet to see in my thirty years as a professor here, someone who can sprawl out notes and lyrics in the time that you have." Mrs. C spoke afterwards, "I am impressed how well you portrayed Val. It's not likely seen that an actor or actress can pick up a reading with no prompting and perform as well as you did." Rudy spoke next, "I believe there is much more we can do with your works. In all honesty, your presentation today was flawless. The only thing I would recommend is that you work on your posture. Stand straight and most importantly smile. You do well in covering your emotions. I like that. It tells a lot about a person." Rudy reached in to his briefcase and handed me some papers. "If you give us another hour we can get these filed and turned in to the dean. In other words, you are getting recommended in to Julliard by the four of us. Tuition free." I smiled, "It would be my honor."

It was my big break. I don't know how I had gotten this chance, as of two days ago; I saw my life as working at the diner forever. Now there were endless possibilities in front of me. I just wish I knew how Rudy had discovered my admission out of the other 10,000 admitted. Is it really my big break?

It feels like someone else is behind this…and as much as it pains me to accept it, as I look in to Rudy's eyes, I see the eyes of his nephew looking back at me. They have the same eyes.

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><p><strong>I'm really getting into this. Almost 4,000 words. Yes. PLEASE review and tell me your thoughts! Should I turn this into a full story or just make a couple of chapters? Thanks for all of your support! I LOVE YOU GUYS!<br>**

~Fruitsmiles

p.s. Thanks for everyone who's stuck through all the waiting. I love that ya'll are patient with me and the stories.


	3. Too Late

**Mini-story? Full story? Or just a few chapters? PLEASE review if you read this! I wanna know what YOU want to see happen! Pwease review! I love you guys!  
><strong>

Fruitsmiles

* * *

><p>Be My Escape<p>

(Chapter Two- Too Late)

I was welcomed home in no fancy manner, if you would even call it a welcome: Caitlyn took me out to dinner. I explained to her what had happened; the thrill, the experiences.

"They accepted me in to the school and they want me to start in two weeks. They're paying for the shipping costs of my stuff and everything." Caitlyn's eyes got wide, "What? That's amazing Mitch!" I smiled at her, "I know! I just can't get it out of my head that it was Rudy Gray! I feel as though" I paused, unable to speak his name, "You know who, is behind this. I mean, there were at least ten-thousand other students who applied, why was mine picked up **after** they denied me? It doesn't make since!" I needed to vent. I just knew somewhere deep down that _he _was behind my acceptance. This was my big break, yes; but I certainly didn't receive it out of pure talent and luck…no.

Two weeks later.

Caitlyn hugged me tightly, both of us held in our tears. We agreed we weren't going to cry until after I was gone. "I'm going to visit as soon as I get the money." Cait promised, I smiled at her. "I'm going to miss you." We said our goodbyes and I got in to the limo waiting for me outside of the diner. I waved at her until she disappeared from my sight. Then I cried.

My welcome to Julliard, however, was certainly fancy. The board threw a mini-dinner in my favor. Me. No one else. I was amazed. Rudy approached me as I walked in to the dining hall, "I hope you enjoy Julliard, Miss. Torres, we are grateful to have you here." I nodded and smiled politely.

The dinner was delicious: an appetizer, main course AND dessert. At the end of the evening a limo waited for me to take me to my suite off campus. I felt like I was in heaven, and I would have been completely satisfied, had I been with Cait as well.

Her dreams were shattered just as easily as mine were at that stupid Camp. It was supposed to 'make' your dreams, not break them. But it did. It broke our dreams and then broke us in half.

I walked in to my suite and collapsed on my bed. My eyes were heavy so I let myself fall in to a daze, then sleep.

I woke to my phone ringing. "Hello" I answered groggily. "Hello, Miss. Torres?" A person questioned. "This is she; may I ask whose calling?" I sat up in bed, listening to the other line. "This is the dean of Julliard, I was wondering if you would be prompted to come in this morning to talk with me about your schedule and curriculum." Ugh. "I'm sure that'd be fine. I'll see you shortly." I hung up the phone and slumped my way towards my suitcase. I looked at the clock; 8 a.m. I know I didn't get in until at least 4.

The meeting with the dean went a lot like the one did with Rudy a few weeks ago; paper work, talks, more paper work, more talking. He thanked me for coming and then I was off. I start classes next week.

Back at my suite I enjoyed a good lunch and took a well needed nap. Once again, I was awaken by my phone ringing.

I waited for the person on the other line to say something before I did but nothing was said. I didn't even hear breathing. The line disconnected. I slumped back in to the comfort of the bed and then there was a knock at the door.

I got up slowly and opened up the door. My eyes became hazy and my palms instantly became sweaty and like the freak I am, I fainted.

I woke to a warm feeling on my forehead; a rag perhaps? When I opened my eyes, I dare believe _he_ was in front of me. My mind was playing tricks, I told myself.

"Mitch" That voice had me mesmerized; in fact, it made me lightheaded once more. I didn't speak, I just stared at him completely and utterly bewildered. "Mitch" _He _spoke again, placing _his_ finger tips on my cheek, caressing me in a soothing manner. I closed my eyes tightly, hoping it was just a dream. I would wake up and there would be no one but me in the room. When I opened my eyes, _he _was even closer. I sucked in a breath, shocked. "Mitch, say something." _He _demanded. My mouth opened a little but no words escaped. I tried again, but failed.

"Mitch, are you okay?" _He _caressed my cheek again, _he _placed his palm on my forehead; "You're warm. Let me get you another washcloth." _He_ got up and walked in to the bathroom. I took a deep breath and gulped down the saliva remains. I was falling apart and I'd only been in this damn room with _him_ for five minutes.

When _he_ came out of the bathroom with the washcloth, I spoke: "Shane," I said that name so softly and quietly. My heart ached when I spoke his name aloud; hell, it ached when I thought it! "Why are you here?" I questioned. He looked at me cautiously; I knew he was trying to find the words to say. "Julliard is your dream. I'm here to make sure you live your dream." My anger that had been boiling in my heart for years finally emerged. "You want to make my dream come true? Really?" I stood up, gripping on to the bed post to keep from falling. I glared at him, "You ruined my dream at that vicious camp and you can't try and fix it! You can't make it any better! You're stupid if you think you can make up for it. Because you can't. Not now, not ever. Now get out of my room!" I collapsed on the bed, exhausted.

Shane didn't obey my wishes; which is expected. What wasn't expected was his reaction. I expected him to get back in my face and yell at me, to tell me none of what had happened to me in the past weeks was possible without him; that I was worthless without him. But he didn't. He came towards me, sat next to me, and pulled me in to him. "I know I can't fix things. I'm not trying to make up for anything. You deserve a chance to live. You deserve this, Mitch. So I'm giving it to you." I didn't have the energy in me to say anything, I softly cried on his shoulder.

I fell asleep again because once I woke up, Shane had me cradled in his arms. I was tightly, yet comfortably lying against his chest. His face just centimeters from mine. I couldn't resist myself; I combed my fingers through his locks, what was left of them, anyway. He'd changed; his hair much shorter, yet still fitting for his face. A mustache masked his upper lip and his face was now that of a man's. I smiled at him and without thought, I began to sing that familiar song, _I think I've found a better place to start. No one ever seems to understand. I need to try to get to where you are, could it be that you're not that far? _

Tears escaped my eyes so I stopped singing, but Shane's eyes opened slightly, "I need to find you, I gotta find you." The lyrics came out deeper than they did those years ago, but they still were magical, and they still made my heart skip a beat. More tears fell from my eyes and as Shane woke, he embraced me in his arms. He held me until I stopped crying.

"I've missed you." He spoke softly in my ear. I pulled away from his embrace, "You never once called. You promised." I spoke questionably.

Shane looked in to my eyes, he spoke softly, "I was afraid, Mitchie. I went back home, I toured and the entire time I was changing. The day I left that camp I changed again and I was afraid of what you'd think of me. I chickened out. I was young and foolish. I didn't realize the mistake I had made until it was too late for me."

He was feeding me all the words I had wanted to hear all along, but he was right- it was too late.

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><p><strong>What are you guys thinkingfeeling. PLEASE review and tell me your thoughts! Should I turn this into a full story or just make a couple of chapters? Thanks for all of your support! I LOVE YOU GUYS!  
><strong>

~Fruitsmiles

p.s. Thanks for everyone who's stuck through all the waiting. I love that ya'll are patient with me and the stories.


	4. Once A Player

**Mini-story? Full story? Or just a few chapters? PLEASE review if you read this! I wanna know what YOU want to see happen! Pwease review! I love you guys!  
><strong>

Fruitsmiles

* * *

><p>Be My Escape<p>

(Chapter Three- Once A Player)

I'd tried so hard to get Shane to leave my hotel room, but he insisted on staying. It only brought back memories from camp.

_Four years ago_

_"Come on, let me stay. Brown won't even notice I was gone." Shane pecked Mitchie's lips as he spoke. He then pulled her into an embrace, finally collapsing on top of her in the bed. Her hands lightly tugged on his hair as the kiss' intensity emerged. _

Shane stayed _that _night…

"Thinking about that night?" Shane asked, as he walked towards the bedroom. He knew me too well. "Shut up." I mumbled, turning my back to him, lying on the bed as comfortably as I could. I was able to calm my emotions by the time Shane emerged from the shower. Of course, he only came out with a towel wrapped around his waist. "I didn't bring a change of clothes." He murmured. _Still the same, _I thought to myself. I chuckled, grabbing the phone. "Hi, it's Mitchie. Anyway you could bring a change of clothes to room 420? No, men's please. Um," I stopped for a moment when the manager asked what size, I observed Shane, "34 waist, sweatpants please, and a large white t-shirt. Yes, a change of clothes for tomorrow too. Blue jeans and polo, black. Okay, thank you." I hung up the phone and turned to see Shane smirking. "What?" I questioned.

"You still know me well; too well." He admitted, shaking his hair a bit. I sighed, "As do you, Shane." He shrugged, "You've always known me better, though." That, I couldn't disagree with.

It took the laundry service forty minutes to bring a change of clothes. I made Shane sit in the reclining chair across the room; it was far too awkward to have him close to me. We talked for about twenty minutes. The next twenty we argued.

"I bet it's nice in California." I replied as nice as I could as Shane talked about his magnanimous house, four cars and private golf course. He'd always had it all. "What?" He questioned. I shook my head, "I didn't say anything." He moved in his seat, "No, the tone of your voice." I sighed, "What's wrong with the tone of my voice?" I questioned. "You're bitter or envious." I chuckled sarcastically. "Okay, sure." Shane stood up, "No, you really are jealous!" He assumed. "Shane! Not everything is about you okay? I'm not jealous of you! I will NEVER be jealous of you. Ever!" He got cocky then. "Mitchie, let's face it, you've always been jealous of me. That's why you acted the way you did." He referred to camp. "Look, Shane. I didn't act that way because of YOU. I acted how I acted to fit in okay?" I defended myself. He nodded, "Okay Mitchie, whatever. That's typical high school." I smirked, "We were in high school!" I retorted. Shane shook his head in protest. "_You_ were. Not me."

The argument escalated and we were spitting insults when someone knocked. We both stopped spewing hateful words and I answered the door. The maid handed me Shane's change of clothes. "Thank you." She looked at Shane with a glare and nodded to me with a smile. When I shut the door, I laughed. "She doesn't like you either." I smirked, "Har har, Mitchie." Shane spoke sarcastically, "Could I have my clothes please?" He asked. I shook my head, "You're being rude, so no." He rolled his eyes, "Come on Mitch. Don't make me walk around in my birthday suit." I laughed, "You wouldn't." He smirked, "How much you wanna bet?" I thought about it, "Fifty bucks." He nodded, "Deal"

I rolled my eyes, unbelieving his little charade. I put his clothes on the opposite side of the room. "When you start being nice to me, I'll let you have your clothes." I spoke as I put his clothes in drawers. When I turned around, Shane's towel was at his ankles. "Pay up, Mitch." My mouth dropped and my eyes got wide. Shane, sure enough, was naked. I immediately turned back around. "Shane! Here," I grabbed the pair of shorts and the tee and tossed it across the room over my head, sure of myself to not turn around. "Put some clothes on!" I heard Shane chuckle.

A few moments later I asked, "Are you dressed yet?" He didn't respond. "Shane?" Then I felt a breath on the back of my neck. Chills ran down my spine. "Sha, " chills again, I failed to speak his name. The breathing got closer, until his lips met the side of my neck, and his hand brushed my hair away from my neck. As he moved closer, his chest pressed against my back and I instantly knew he was shirtless. I tried to bring my arms up from my sides to push him away but they were dead weight.

His lips moved across my neck, I bent my neck backwards to rest on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around my waist, turning me towards him. He looked in my eyes lustfully. Lustfully, not lovingly. I shoved him away and walked straight in to the bathroom. Shane didn't care, he never did, he never will…

I washed my face and sat in the bathroom for a few minutes to calm down. When I walked out, Shane was fully dressed, wrapped up in the covers. I shook my head and walked across the room to the dresser. I pulled out a blanket and pillow and set it on the floor. I shut the lights off and cuddled on the floor. "You're not that mad are you?" Shane questioned. "I just don't want to sleep in the same bed as you." I responded quickly. "Is it your boyfriend? Would he not approve?" I snapped back, "It's not funny, Shane. At all. I'm done being a stupid game you play. I'm a human being." I heard him rustle in the bed; possibly sit up. "Woah, Mitch. How am I playing you?" The tears started streaming, but I kept my voice calm, thankful that the lights were off. "I saw the way you looked at me." He sighed, "I'm a dude, Mitch. If you were a dude you'd think you were pretty attractive too." I chuckled, "Fine, whatever Shane." I heard him sigh, "Don't be mad, Mitchie. I'm not playing you." I didn't respond. I heard him get off the bed. The lights came on shortly afterwards.

"Please," he begged, leaning next to me on the floor. He didn't laugh like I thought he would when he saw me crying (he did it at camp ALL the time), he just wiped the tears away. He really has changed, I thought to myself. "Please" He looked at me, and I could tell now, from the look in his eyes that he DID care. Earlier he was telling the truth. It was a 'dude' thing…but he did care. My head began to spin and I did the only thing I knew to do. I kissed him.

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><p><strong>What are you guys thinkingfeeling. PLEASE review and tell me your thoughts! Should I turn this into a full story or just make a couple of chapters? Thanks for all of your support! I LOVE YOU GUYS!  
><strong>

~Fruitsmiles

p.s. Thanks for everyone who's stuck through all the waiting. I love that ya'll are patient with me and the stories.


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